


Anamnesis

by TitWarbler



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Alcohol, Blow Jobs, Face-Fucking, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:21:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29692173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TitWarbler/pseuds/TitWarbler
Summary: His gaze drifts back up to the Turk's face, and he’s mortified to realize he'd been staring. A soft flush comes to Cloud’s cheeks, and the redhead's cocksure grin implies it hadn’t gone unnoticed.Shit.After his recovery in Mideel, Cloud & company have a short stopover in Wutai. Following an eventful day hunting down a materia thief, a depressed Cloud runs in to an off-duty Turk.
Relationships: Reno/Cloud Strife
Comments: 13
Kudos: 49





	Anamnesis

**Author's Note:**

> anamnesis (noun)  
> /ˌanəmˈnēsis/
> 
> 1\. the remembering of things from a supposed previous existence.

Cloud silently escapes from the Turtle Paradise, bar door closing softly behind him and muting the raucous yells of his friends. The chill air is a welcome reprieve against his drink-flushed cheeks, and Cloud exhales a sigh of relief. His crew deserves the break; even if for only one night. One night to forget everything wrong with the Planet. One night where they can laugh and remind themselves what they’re really fighting for.

Cloud hates it. Hates standing idle, hates that they aren’t rushing to their next fight. 

Hates the silence, and the hurt it brings with it.

Yuffie had been the one to suggest the stopover in the small village to restock supplies; Cloud had assumed she’d wanted an excuse to get off the airship, but when their materia went missing he hadn’t been surprised. Her antics had been a nearly welcome reprieve, something to focus on besides the ache in his heart, twisting its way through his veins and clawing at the edges of his already frayed nerves.

It had been something to distract him from the memories of _her_ rattling through his mind, jostled loose from his dip in the lifestream and playing over and over and over: memories he wasn't sure even belonged to him. Flashes of a playground in Sector 6. A blue sundress. 

A flower wagon.

A twitch of movement in the corner of his eye startles him out of his haze of anamnesis. His hand is already moving towards his sword while he evaluates the situation: he had absentmindedly walked around the side of the building. He’s had a few drinks but is still steady on his feet. His reaction time will be slowed, but likely still good enough to take on—

"Relax, SOLDIER-boy. I already told ya: it's my day off, yo."

Cloud frowns as recognition dawns on him. Reno is casually loitering against the red fence that borders the Wutai river, and Cloud gives him a once over to assess his threat level. He _appears_ to be unarmed; a flask in hand and EMR nowhere to be seen. His cheeks are rosy with drink, and a flush is spilling down the pale slice of his chest visible through his disheveled shirt. His movements are loose and unhurried, so Cloud allows himself to relax minutely.

His gaze drifts back up to the Turk's face, and he’s mortified to realize he'd been staring. A soft flush comes to Cloud’s cheeks, and the redhead's cocksure grin implies it hadn’t gone unnoticed.

_Shit._

He huffs in exasperation, and makes to find another location to brood, only to pause once again when the Turk pulls a crushed pack of cigarettes from his pocket and holds it out.

An offering.

The smirk is gone, replaced with a raised eyebrow, a silent invitation.

Cloud takes a split second to consider. It's late enough that the streets are deserted. He could _probably_ take on a drunk Turk if it came down to it, even in his own inebriated state.

"Fuck it," he murmurs, accepting the proffered cancer stick. Reno plucks one out for himself before pocketing the pack, returning with a lighter in the same smooth motion. He takes a step closer, cupping the tiny flame to protect it from the chill mountain breeze, and Cloud leans in for a light. To his surprise, Reno leans in to light his as well, close enough that he can feel the warmth radiating from the Turk’s slender frame. Close enough that he can feel his breath on his cheek.

_Close. Too close._

He jerks away, eyes narrowing when he notices Reno's face: mischief is dancing in those aquamarine eyes, and a hint of that devastating smirk pulling at his lips.

Reno finishes lighting his own, inhaling deeply before turning and resting his elbows on the fence beside them. Cloud hesitates a moment before following suit. They linger in mutual silence, the chattering stream below absorbing their attention. Cloud can distantly hear the wind rustling in the trees across the river. Behind them the bar door opens, and the sound of his friends' laughter carries through the chill air.

"So, whatcha doing out here in the cold while the rank and file drink away all your hard-earned gil?"

Cloud takes another drag of his cigarette, breathing deeply as he mulls over the answer.

"...needed some air," is all he supplies. The nicotine is already having a calming effect on his rapid-fire thoughts, slowing the racing memories to a sluggish crawl instead. He isn't sure which is worse: memories rushing at him so quickly he can't process them, or filtering through his mind so slowly and with such an aching clarity that it feels like he could reach out and touch _her_.

There's a hum of assent from Reno before he speaks again.

"My partner seemed to think he had a shot with the barmaid, and _kindly_ requested I vacate our room," he mutters, taking a long pull from his flask. Given the petulant look on his face, Cloud has a suspicion that the “request” had been anything but kind. Reno moves to pocket the flask, but reconsiders a moment before handing it to the blonde instead.

Cloud absolutely does _not_ zero in on the sparks that set his nerves alight when their fingers brush in the exchange. He pointedly ignores the flutter of heat in his midsection as he moves to take his own sip of the mystery drink—an action he immediately regrets when the burning liquor overwhelms his senses, and he's seized in a coughing fit.

"Holy shit! What is this?!" he manages to choke out, and Reno cackles as he claps the fighter's back, helping to clear the soldier's airways.

"Midgar's finest. Moonshine straight from the sector 6 slums, yo." 

Cloud winces as he recovers, bemoaning the half-finished cigarette that had slipped from his grasp and into the stream below. Against his better judgement, he takes a second swig of the rotgut and swallows it down with barely a grimace now that he's prepared for the burn.

When he moves to return the flask, he's startled to realize exactly how close he's allowed his adversary-slash-drinking partner to get. When Reno removes his hand from his back, there’s a small voice in the back of Cloud’s mind that laments the loss of warmth. And if Reno’s fingers linger longer than necessary when he takes the flask back? Well, that’s between him and the Planet.

Reno pockets the flask without a second thought, doesn't pause his movements when his right hand moves up to the corner of the Cloud's lips.

"Missed a spot," he murmurs, thumb brushing away the offending drop of liquor. Cloud sucks in a sharp breath at the simple motion, and Reno’s eyebrows raise a fraction in surprise. Cloud can feel his cheeks flush, and his turtleneck suddenly feels far too constricting.

“O-oh” he chokes out.

Unnerved by aquamarine eyes boring into him, Cloud darts his gaze to the side, flushing even deeper. When he glances back, the surprise on Reno’s face is gone, transformed into a predatory smile.

Instead of pulling the offending digit away, Reno traces it along the blonde’s lower lip. Cloud lets out a soft gasp, lips parted, and groans when Reno’s thumb presses in. He zeros in on the sensation, the pad running along the flat of his tongue, and can’t shake the familiarity of it. His mind is spinning, his memories are blindsiding him, drawing him in, hazy images of a slim figure materializing over him—

"Look at you," interrupts an awed whisper, shattering the illusion. He realizes he’s panting, and his glassy eyes crack open. _Shit. When had he closed them?_ "Already wrecked, and I haven't even touched you."

Cloud closes his lips, laving his tongue along the intruding digit, and Reno groans as he slowly thrusts in and out of that wet heat. Cloud is vaguely aware of a voice in the back of his mind urging him to stop—warning him that this is a mistake—but he can’t seem to summon the inclination to care. Not when Reno drags those clever fingers away from Cloud’s mouth, smearing a wet trail across his cheek and wrapping them in his soft blonde hair.

A quiet whimper escapes his lips when Reno tugs his head to the side and breathes next to his ear, “Relax...let me help you out.” He casually flicks the butt of his cigarette over the fence before leaning in to drag his lips and teeth down Cloud’s exposed neck. 

Each lick and scrape of teeth drags another memory to the surface, until Cloud is slumped with his back to the fence losing his goddamn mind. He’s panting and grasping helplessly at Reno’s blazer, his shoulders, his hair, as Reno's fingers slide beneath the hem of his shirt to make contact with Cloud’s heated skin. They run teasingly along the edge of his waistband, and Cloud squirms at the light touch. They skim his writhing hips, and scrape over his quivering abdominals before finally, _finally,_ unbuckling his belt and dragging down his fly.

Reno’s slender fingers extricate Cloud’s swollen member from the confines of his pants, and Cloud’s head slumps forward onto Reno’s shoulder with a particularly piteous moan. His vision is swimming, his whole world narrowing to the rough glide of Reno’s calloused hand. He bites his lip in a laughably poor attempt to keep quiet, while Reno whispers breathless praise next to his ear. 

"So fucking sensitive,” Reno mutters, “I wish you could see yourself, shaking apart with my hand on your cock. Fucking gorgeous. Let me see that pretty face of yours, baby."

With monumental effort, Cloud rolls his head back, glassy eyes unseeing, pupils blown. Breathy moans are tumbling from his parted lips, hips stuttering while Reno jerks him off. He’s not going to last, delicious friction pulling him tighter and tighter—

"I bet you'd look fucking gorgeous bouncing on my cock, writhing and desperate. So fucking pretty. You gonna come for me, pretty boy? Come while thinking about me fucking up into your tight little asshole?"

The coil in Cloud’s midsection snaps. His hips jerk once, twice more before a ragged moan rips from his lips, and white hot sparks ignite behind his eyes. He spills himself in Reno's hand, and the redhead's deadly lips mutter encouraging praises into his ear _(that's right baby, so good for me, look at you)_ as he whites out.

***

His mind reboots slowly, at first only capable of keeping himself upright. He vaguely recognizes that he’s being lowered against the fence, and he’s immediately grateful for its support when his legs wobble dangerously.

His mind had blanked out for a few blessed moments, but it’s not long before memories begin crowding in again.

_When was the last time someone touched me like this?_

Flashes of his time together with Aerith, with Tifa, with... Kunsel? No, that wasn’t right...

Anxiety is churning in his gut, and he’s helplessly trying to pick his own memories out from the residual ones left by Zack—But an anguished sob interrupts his train of thought, cutting straight through his internal conflict.

Reno is slumped against him, forehead resting on his shoulder, breathy whines of desperation tumbling from his parted lips. His hand is jerking furiously at his own cock, and Cloud has to bite back a groan when he realizes that it’s his own release slicking the way for Reno’s fist.

In a surge of boldness he didn’t realize he possessed, Cloud nudges Reno back and drops to his knees. Reno groans at the sight of him, and Cloud can’t help the overwhelming satisfaction and _familiarity_ that rushes through him. 

He’ll _definitely_ need to examine that reaction more thoroughly. 

_Later._

Right now he has other affairs to occupy him, case in point: the perfect cock jutting out in front of his face.

It's a pretty cock: long and slender, uncut, hot and heavy in his hand. Cloud runs his fingers experimentally along the length, and above him he can hear Reno hissing out a desperate _fuck_ between clenched teeth. Cloud looks up to see Reno gazing at him through heavy lidded eyes, canines tearing at his lower lip. Cloud keeps their eyes locked as he flicks his tongue against the head of Reno's cock, and is rewarded with a sharp intake of breath. He runs his tongue along the small slit, sampling the precome gathered there.

Sighing contentedly, Cloud wraps his lips around the head, swirling his tongue around the tip. He savours the taste of his own salty release mixing with the pre dripping from Reno, overwhelming his senses. Raising a hand, he grasps the base of Reno’s length and bobs his head down, ripping another tortured groan from the redhead.

“Fuck, you look so good with your lips wrapped around my cock,” Reno grunts, grabbing hold of Cloud’s spiky hair and tugging. Cloud hums in encouragement, and loosens his grip to take Reno’s cock further into his mouth. He can feel it pressing against the back of his throat, heavy and insistent. He repeats a few times, sucking hard on the uptake, and on the fourth bob he presses even further, allowing the Turk’s cock to slide past the ridge of his palate. Gratified at the _s-shit_ that escapes Reno’s lips, he does it again, this time swallowing around that velvety heat, preening at the noises he rips from the Turk—until he’s roughly pulled off by the hand in his hair.

He looks up with an irritated frown, but any complaints he has die on his lips when he sees how utterly wrecked Reno looks; panting, eyes heavy lidded, pupils blown wide while he regards Cloud with an indiscernible look. A look Reno clearly hadn’t meant to show, because he schools his features as soon as Cloud’s irritated glare begins to shift to concern. 

Now, Reno just looks hungry.

“They teach you to suck cock like that at the Academy?” he asks roughly, tightly adjusting his grip in the blonde’s hair. Cloud lets out a pained moan, telltale sparks igniting in his gut. He promptly relegates _that_ reaction to the back of his mind to address later. Right now, all he can focus on is the dangerous glint in Reno’s eyes, like the cat that caught the canary. 

Grinning like he’s going to eat him alive.

“B-best in my class,” answers Cloud. He’s trying for an air of indifference, and curses his voice for trembling, for the way his body is reacting. Reno’s grin widens, and Cloud wonders how he lost control of the situation so quickly.

“Then let’s put that first-class mouth of yours to work,” whispers Reno, placing his thumb on Cloud’s lower lip, guiding his mouth open. The other hand, still wrapped tightly in those soft spikes, guides Cloud’s head back towards his cock.

The press is light, at first. Reno holds Cloud's head in place as the blunt tip of his cock pushes past Cloud’s hungry lips. Cloud moans approvingly at the intrusion, and laves his tongue along the hot length as it thrusts in and out.

As if waiting for that sign, Reno starts pressing deeper, bumping the back of his throat, gagging him. Cloud is forced to slacken his jaw and just accept what’s being given to him, relaxing his esophagus when Reno thrusts in far enough to press past his palate and down his throat. The pressure blocks his airway, and Reno holds his head there a moment before pulling back and thrusting in again, barely allowing Cloud to catch his breath as he fucks his face.

Cloud is intoxicated. His mind feels scrubbed clean of memory as all of his senses narrow in on Reno’s perfect cock abusing his throat. He gazes rapturously at the man above him, spit and pre leaking down his chin, vision blurred with tears. Reno pulls him off his cock for a few blessed seconds, allowing him to take a handful of gasping breaths before he’s back down his throat.

“You fucking love this,” pants the redhead, and Cloud, blissed out and oxygen deprived, faintly realizes that Reno is right; he’s hard again. He reaches down and fists his own cock, a guttural moan taking shape before it’s muffled by the dick down his throat.

“Shit, you’re too fucking much Strife. You’re perfect. I’m not gonna last...jerking yourself off while I fucking wreck you, shiiiiit—”

Cloud _keens_ when Reno pulls back, and he’d likely be mortified if he was capable of coherent thought. Right now, all he can manage is gulping down deep breaths of air. Above him, there’s a string of incoherent curses before hot release splashes across his face, into his gasping mouth, dripping down his chin.

Cloud isn’t far behind, electric pleasure ripping through his body. Blinded with euphoria, he spills on the ground with a hoarse cry, stroking through the aftershocks until he’s a trembling mess. He drifts dazedly to every sensation assaulting his senses; the tingling in his cheeks and fingertips, the cooling mess of spit and cum drying on his face. His throat is raw, and his lips are swollen from abuse. He suspects he might topple over any moment now, but can’t quite be bothered to remember how to use his limbs.

He’s fortunately saved the trouble when a hand reaches out to steady him. A hand attached to a _very_ pretty redhead, note his three remaining brain cells. Reno is crouching in front of him, and uses his left hand to tilt Cloud’s chin up.

“Y'all right there, Blondie?” he asks, not unkindly. 

Something soft is now gently wiping off Cloud’s face. He takes a moment to focus, blinking slowly, before nodding and bringing his eyes up to Reno’s. “Good. Would hate to put a damper on Mr. First Class saving the world all for a quick fuck,” he laughs, but the humor doesn’t reach his eyes. Instead, the words come out sharp and bitter.

Cloud frowns at that and goes to speak, only for nothing to come out. He clears his throat to try again, but Reno interrupts him before he has the chance.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, SOLDIER-boy,” he grimaces, tossing a red piece of cloth to the ground. “I’m already gone.” he says, standing up.

Cloud rushes to stand up, stumbling as he tucks himself away.

“Reno! Wait-” he tries again, intelligible this time, albeit hoarse. But Reno’s already stalking away.

“I’ll see ya around, pretty boy,” calls the redhead, giving a two fingered salute but not bothering to look back.

Cloud frowns, but doesn’t bother chasing after him. Instead, he sighs and runs his hand through his hair, hoping it isn’t too out of place. Checking himself over as best he can, he spots the red kerchief on the ground. Pocketing it, he makes his way back into the bar with his friends.

He doesn't notice until he’s lying in bed that night that his memories are blissfully silent.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> This is the first fic I've written since I was a teen, so thank you for your patience while I learn how to write again. I'd love it if you left a comment telling me what you liked or what didn't work for you. (ノ*°▽°*) 
> 
> I'm considering writing a second part from Reno's POV, so please let me know if that's something you'd like to see!
> 
> I'm @tit_warbler on twitter
> 
> Also come join our Cleno discord server: https://discord.gg/bKbDSujx


End file.
